[center][h3]Drowned by the Darkness[/h3][/center]

[i]Night, 6th of Midyear, 4E208
Warehouse district, Gilane[/i]

The Pale Reaper retreated further and further into the back of Gregor’s mind the closer he got to Raelynn -- fear and love where the strongest antidotes against the cruel alter-ego’s presence, and Gregor was feeling it in spades. It was past the curfew by now and the dusk had turned into night proper. Despite the stifling quality of his clothes and cloak, Gregor was glad for the fact that they were all-black, and he moved through the streets of Gilane unseen by his enemies. The knowledge that Salasoix had sent her into the Khajiit’s trap with a plan was some comfort to him after all, even if he didn’t trust Raelynn’s father as far as he could throw him. There was reason to hope that he would find her alive. 

The warehouse district was close to the sea and the lapping waves against the docks and the beach was all the sound that Gregor heard, occasionally interspersed by the marching boots of the city guards in the distance. That is, until he heard a strange but very familiar sound: the keening howl of a wolf. That was weird. There were no wolves in Hammerfell, as far as he knew, and certainly not inside Gilane. Whatever other business was taking place inside the occupied city at night, Gregor knew that none of it would be so weird as this, except… Raelynn. For some reason, the sound of the wolf reminded him of her, and his heart skipped a beat. He followed the alleys and courtyards towards the sources of the sound, skirting along the outer walls of several fine, clearly well-used warehouses, not the dilapidated structures that Salasoix had spoken of. 

He rounded the corner as he neared the edge of the district and there it was, sitting outside of the entrance to a particularly run-down warehouse, howling up at the moon; an ethereal wolf, clearly a familiar of some kind. Gregor suddenly remembered that all Bretons had the innate ability to summon one of these and he practically sprinted towards it, his left hand on the pommel of his shortsword. Upon arriving by the familiar’s side, it continued to ignore him, and Gregor looked past it and into the warehouse through the half-open door. Did he hear… sobbing? 

Without even being aware of having moved, Gregor suddenly found himself in the warehouse, blood throbbing in his ears and his breathing haggard and uneven. His eyes darted through the gloom, seeing corpses; he almost sank to his knees as fear threatened to overtake him until he realized that they were all men. Three dead Dwemer and… Roux. The captain of the [i]Intrepid.[/i] What had happened here? The sobbing was louder and Gregor followed the source of the sound with his gaze until he saw her at last, sitting at the foot of the steps that lead up to the platform around which the Dwemer lay splayed. 

“Raelynn!” he gasped and dashed towards her, sinking on his knees and cradling her in his arms. She looked utterly destroyed, but alive. “Are you hurt? What happened? Did you do this?” he asked, his voice muffled as his face was pressed into the nape of her neck and his strong arms pulled her in the tightest embrace of his life. 

It had been naught but silence until he had arrived here. The sound of his footsteps and his breathing - his deep voice resonant and familiar, but not at all familiar at the same time. It wasn't until his arms had found their way to wrap themselves around her that she realised it was Gregor. She mouthed his name as if to tell herself so. Raelynn's head naturally found its way to his chest and she placed her head where she could hear his thunderous heartbeat - it was like the galloping of a wild stallion. It may have been a turbulent echo inside of his chest, but she could hear it and feel it - [i]feel him[/i]. Constricted in his tight grip, she felt so small and frail in his arms and the feeling teetered on the line of comfort and discomfort. 

She didn't answer him while she composed herself, the last of her sobs now falling quietly, steadily. Her hand gripped at his clothing tightly, bunching the material of his cloak between her fingers as she twisted at it desperately, breaths shakily fell from her open mouth. Her eyes flickered over the room frantically until she locked on to the lifeless bodies of the Dwemer and all she could do was nod against Gregor's chest - part ashamed, part proud. Him being here… She felt bold enough to know she did the right thing and as soon as she let those thoughts in she realised that standing up there with her spell had made her feel… Powerful. 

“He took Sora away,” she whispered finally, consternation was wrapped around her usual honeyed voice and was strangling it, defeating it. 

“He made her choose…” Raelynn rounded off with a quietly hollow snigger, before pulling herself together to look upon her darling Gregor’s face. There was so much worry buried there in the lines around his eyes and immediately she was sorry for it. The trouble she had caused him, how distraught he had been - she found it in his eyes - he had been seething. The exasperation, the dread, the [i]darkness[/i]. What had he done to find her here? Was she even worth it? She reached up, releasing his cloak from her hand and let her fingers carefully and gently brush away the hair that had fallen loose during his mission to find her. 

“Daro’Vasora? She was here too?” Gregor mumbled, following Raelynn’s gaze around the room. That explained why Roux was here. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place as Gregor realized what had happened; Zaveed had captured the three of them and forced the tomb raider to choose between Roux and Raelynn. Gregor grimaced and muttered a curse beneath his breath. It was cruelty just for the sake of it, without a greater purpose or goal, and it disgusted him. His eyes lingered on the corpses of the Dwemer guards again, watching how wisps of steam continued to rise above them like the swirling, ethereal energy of Nblec’s soul had done. “I had no idea you could do this,” he said, approval in his voice, as he gestured towards the dead and cupped Raelynn’s cheek with his other hand. “Come on, let’s get you out of 
here.” He got to his feet and helped her up as well. “Everything will be alright. I’m here now. I’m sorry I was so late -- your father did not cooperate as fast as he should have.” 

“Just a scroll. I can’t… I don’t know how to use destruction magic… He took Sora away.” Her voice was confused, addled, and distant. Raelynn, when standing, pulled away from Gregor and swayed over to Roux before leaning down over him, “I will send someone for you, friend…” she squeezed his hand one last time and placed it over his chest, moving the other hand on top of it gracefully so that he looked dignified again. Her head turned to look over her shoulder at Gregor as she rose back up. “It matters not if you’re early, on time, or late now…” 

She ran a hand over her head, where Zaveed had planted the pommel of his dagger and winced. Head injuries were unpleasant but she continued over to Gregor, her strides meek and small.

The sight of Raelynn once again reduced to shambles reignited the flames of wrath that burned in Gregor’s heart and he found himself clenching his fists, fingernails digging deep lines into his palms. “It does matter,” he said with the seething restraint of a man trying very hard not to break something. “If I had been faster to discover your whereabouts, I could have killed him. [i]Zaveed.[/i] But your father thought he knew best. He said he had it all planned out. I’m sure the Khajiit thought the same thing. Well, everybody has a plan until they get stabbed in the chest,” he continued and took Raelynn’s hands in his own when she reached him. He ignored Raelynn’s comment about Sora’s kidnapping again -- she was not his concern right now, nor his responsibility. “The wolf outside, the familiar; was that yours?” 

“My father? Gregor…? What of him? No— never mind...” Her brows furrowed - it was the second comment he’d made regarding Salosoix. She pulled away from his grip, frustration seeping in, agitation crawling across her skin and digging deep at it. She wanted to scream - whatever restraint Gregor had right now, she did not. “The wolf? Yes. I… My summoning, my familiar. It attacked the guards - a distraction,” she was pacing the platform back and forth, thoughts and answers to his questions, back and forth, her head was spinning. She held her hands out in front of her and her fingers curled like claws at the air. Her breathing grew rapid - as if she couldn’t breathe. 

“Zaveed. Zaveed of Senchal, he’s not the fucking problem-“ it happened, she snapped and at the end of her words her hands clasped at the underside of the table and she flung it away, over the platform in a quick burst of rage that she surprised herself with. “He’s nothing, he’s just a creature sent to do [i]her[/i] bidding. She’s the Mastermind.” She was talking about Rourken and in the moment she thought back to having been sat with her in her Palace and it turned her stomach to picture her smug face. “It doesn’t matter Gregor,” her rage had distilled as quickly as it had come on, and all that was left was a shattered table, and a wry half smile on the Breton’s face. “They’re going to kill us all one by one…” She laughed, a dry laugh that came accompanied by tears of absolute horror.

Gregor visibly flinched when Raelynn flipped the table over and it smashed itself to pieces on the floor of the warehouse. He had seen monsters and fiends of all kinds during his life, from the walking corpses of the undead to the otherworldly warriors of the Daedra, and none had scared him like this. He could only stare as Raelynn spiraled out of control, wide-eyed and powerless. His sweet, tender, loving companion had disappeared and been replaced by a grime-covered, pale spectre, an omen of death, erratic and unpredictable. He clasped a hand over his mouth and looked away, his vision blurred by tears of his own. Why did the world have to take everything away from him? Was this the gods’ way of punishing him? Unable to stand, Gregor sank down on his haunches and stabilized himself by placing a hand on the floor, suddenly revolted by the cold touch of the still water that had acted as the conduit of death between Raelynn’s victims. He was too late after all. Was she gone? His stomach turned.

Rage pacified, she slipped like liquid to the floor, “I’m sorry,” she uttered softly, turning her head to him, he wasn’t looking at her. How could he? She couldn’t understand how this had happened. Only days ago she had been [i]happy[/i]. “I don’t know myself. Between the nightmares, Nblec, Calen… [i]this, again[/i].” She had positioned herself onto her knees, hands on the floor, eyes closed. “I don’t want this place of trauma to be where I live now… I’ve seen this before and thought it was just cowardice. Maybe it is,” she paused, and looked at Gregor once again. She had brought him to the ground - he did not belong on the ground and she was not going to let him remain there. Raelynn looked at Gregor intensely and held a fixed gaze on him in the silence. “Something must come of this, my…” she wanted to call him her love - but not here, not now. She focussed onto something that might bring a smile to them both, even if inappropriate; “my handsome prince.” She tried her best to smile in his direction, it may not have been the smile she had given him at the party - and there may have been sadness behind it but she was trying, after all he was here and he had come for her. There was solace in that. 

That broke through Gregor’s horror and he laughed, the tears that had hung suspended from his eyelashes finally breaking free and running down his cheeks as if to disappear from sight as fast as possible. Not all was lost, it seemed. She was stronger than he had thought. Gregor forced himself up and beckoned for Raelynn to join him. “We really should leave,” he said. “This is a cursed place now and we shouldn’t be here. Leave the dead to their haunts. And believe me when I say that something [i]will[/i] come of this. Zaveed might be nothing more than a symptom of the problem but that doesn’t change anything. I’ll start with him and then maybe follow the cancer that has taken roots in this city back to its source. But he still needs to die for what he’s done to you. Now come, Raelynn. Please.”

He was right, they couldn't stay here and so she pulled herself up to her feet, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She walked to Gregor again and placed her hand on his chest gently, “thank you for coming for me.” It should have been the first thing she had said to him, “I didn't know what was going to happen to me but I… I'm glad you found me.” She wanted to embrace him, to be held be him but they couldn't spend another minute here, it was dangerous and grim. Death was choking the air. She settled for wrapping her fingers around his tightly instead. 

“Of course I came for you,” Gregor whispered and squeezed her hand right back. He led the way out of the warehouse, his free hand resting on the pommel of his sword, eyes sharp on the lookout for trouble. They had no way of knowing when Zaveed or his masters would have sent for Raelynn, or when the Dwemer guards were supposed to be rotated at the end of their shifts. They were fortunate, however, as nothing but the distant sound of the sea and the strange calls of the local birds greeted them. It was still deep into the night and the district, which was purely industrial and commercial, was devoid of people. Gregor understood why Zaveed had chosen this location to carry out his wicked plans. In fact, he suddenly realized, they were not at all far from the abandoned building where Gregor and Raelynn had sacrificed the soul of Nblec to the Ideal Masters. The idea that he shared a similar line of thinking to the Khajiiti torturer made him feel… unclean. 

Just in case their escape was being watched after all, and because Gregor felt like Raelynn needed some time and space away from the others to heal and recover, he did not take her back to the Three Crowns hotel. Instead, they returned to the same inn they had frequented before and a very groggy innkeeper was able to confirm that the same room was available. Upon entering, Gregor closed the door behind them and leaned against it. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, letting the tension and the adrenaline leave his body. 

“Right,” he said, his voice distant as his gaze slowly fixed itself on Raelynn. “You could probably use a bath.”

He was right. A soak, and time to think and relax would do her good - except there was to be no relaxing. Her mind was rattled with thoughts, Gregor had been stripped of something tonight and it was because of her. Because she had found herself in the hands of a maniac once more. Her father’s hand had been forced into putting her in that situation, Sora had been taken, Roux killed, and Gregor had been on the warpath all night. All because of her - because she was too weak to fight back and an easy target. She bit down on her lip, facing away from him as she drew the bath by the hearthfire in their room. It was beginning to feel like a sanctuary away from the events outside of the door. It was safe in here. 

She stripped down to nothing and climbed into the hot water which gave her instant relief as she sat into it and let herself sink completely under the surface. Her mind full of incessant chatter. She couldn’t look at him right now - as much as she longed for his touch, his embrace, and his kiss… She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve his love right now. She broke the surface for breath, caressed her skin with the washcloth - wiping away the blood from her knees and knuckles, massaging her temples with Healing Hands. She would be okay, physically. 

She glanced over her shoulder at Gregor, he had been silent the whole time. She wasn’t even sure if he’d stolen a glance at her form - it was unlike him. She yearned for the Gregor she had met in Anvil. The one whom she had made feel youthful and desired - the one who had smiled at her with such a fervour. [i]Will we ever be that way again?[/i] she thought with a long, and drawn out sigh - the rage once again burning inside of her. She couldn’t speak to Gregor right now, but perhaps… The other side of him, the darkness - the storm that lay within him. If she could wake him then maybe she would get what she wanted.

The violent hurricane of emotions that had ripped at Gregor’s chest all night and the enormous willpower and discipline it had taken to keep them under control left the Imperial exhausted, and he merely sat on one of the room’s comfortable, cream-colored couches and stared ahead. His eyes were fixed on a point so much farther away than the walls of their room that he saw nothing at all. In the wake left by his passion and humanity, there was nothing left but a sullen silence. Raelynn’s suspicion was correct; he did not even look at her. 

Slowly and quietly, a thought formed in his mind until it began to nag at him and it suddenly dawned on him that he had forgotten something. “Oh, by the way,” he said, still staring ahead, “your father is fine. I did not hurt him. I had to threaten him, though. He won’t be happy about that.”

That was surprising, “you did?” She began, shock in her tone and she sat upright in the bath. She didn’t really know how to react. Part of her wanted to laugh, part wanted to admonish him - but she hadn’t the energy for either of those options and so she settled in the middle, “I’ll talk to him, he’ll understand… I should go and see him soon. I have a few words of my own for him, anyway. He’s gotten himself into some terrible things.” How her father could not have told her about his alliance with Rourken had given her a cause for concern, he’d had every opportunity to discuss it with her. [i]He’s still hiding something, another trick up his sleeve.[/i] A poor justification, but it would have to do. It was all that was keeping her from wanting to hurt him herself - that there was a bigger reason for all of this. “He can be difficult to deal with. He’s stubborn,” she laughed as she once more ran the washcloth over her skin, enjoying the heat of the water and in a way forgetting the situation at hand for a fleeting moment. 

The pleasant sound of Raelynn’s laughter helped to pull Gregor back from the void inside of him and he finally turned his head to look at her, a sheepish grimace on his face. “You don’t understand, Raelynn. I may have gone too far. I… lost control. Surrendered it, to be absolutely honest. Does that make sense? He -- that is to say, I, took out my dagger and a soul gem and put it on Salasoix’s desk when I grew tired of his song and dance. He hid his fear well, to his credit, but the cat’s out of the bag now. I’m sorry.”

Raelynn inhaled sharply at his confession - not out of fear for her father - but for concern that Gregor had gotten so torn up over her absence that he had resorted to it in the first place. It explained everything, his mood and aura. His entire current state of being. She would have some explaining to do to her father about this, but it was nothing that the two of them couldn’t talk through. How to make Gregor see that? “Gregor, I’m so sorry that you had to do that. He plays games. The cat may be out o the bag, but you saved me - you found me, and I have chosen [i]you[/i]. He will not tell anyone. He may reprimand me, and try to have me sent away from you, but I will not leave you, and he will see and he will understand.” Her arms were propped on the rim of the bathtub as she stared over to Gregor in the shadows, she could make out his silhouette in the chair - how troubled he was. She hoped that this reassurance she had given him would ease him. “Besides, the stupid fool is playing double agent for Governor Razlinc Rourken,” she shook her head in disbelief when she said it, still unable to fathom why he was doing this - and what it meant for the entire situation at hand. “So there goes another cat free from it’s bag…”

Gregor looked like he had been slapped in the face. “Great gods of nowhere,” he hissed and something clicked in his head that had been bothering him ever since he and Jaraleet took down the mercenaries. “The men he had me kill... one of them said something about ‘standing up to the Dwemer’ right before he died, but I had other things on my mind. I forgot about it. Mara’s mercy, it’s a good thing we burned the bodies. If anyone discovers that we killed enemies of the Dwemer -- new recruits for the Poncy Man, I assume -- we’re well and truly fucked.” Despite himself, Gregor laughed at Salasoix’s sheer audacity. “It seems I underestimated your father,” he mumbled and rubbed his eyes. “Remind me not to do so again.”

She closed her eyes and tried to put herself in her father’s shoes - to think of why he would send Gregor and Jaraleet on such a mission. It took a while before it clicked. “He wanted to even the score. It’s… fucked up, but he might have helped us all. He gave the Governor some blood back for the mess we all made on our missions… You and Jaraleet may well have kept them from a more serious attack on our group at large. It seems a truly backwards way of helping, but it did.” She let herself sink back slightly into the bath again, chuckling slightly at Gregor, “you may think that, but he’s made plenty of mistakes in his life too. He’s just a man after all.”

He was silent for a while before responding. “I have justified my own actions and mistakes with that mantra before. ‘For the greater good’ and all that. It’s still a bitter pill to swallow that I butchered innocent men and used their corpses to kill their friends while I was thinking that I was carrying out justice against criminals that sold their services to the Dwemer.” He exhaled deeply through clenched teeth. “I don’t like being used.” 

“Innocence is nothing but a concept in dark days like this. You don’t know that they weren’t criminals selling their service for The Poncy Man. There’s something not right about him, there’s something insidious about him Gregor… Are his motivations for his rebellion pure? Or to serve his own interests?” The water was beginning to grow cold, but she did not stir, and instead continued to soak there as she and Gregor spoke. They had never really had a conversation like this before - it was honest and calm despite the subject matter, and the emotions they both were experiencing. “He should have been honest, he should have. I cannot excuse him…” She combed her fingers through her hair, unwind the braids that had been there until they were all loose, the strands wavy and held down with the water. “We do what we must to survive in times like this Gregor, you and I know that very well.”

“Hm.” He sank back into his seat and appeared to deflate. His indignation had already passed. “At least you are safe,” Gregor said softly and looked at Raelynn again, taking a moment to enjoy how she looked with her hair down like this. “That’s what’s most important to me.”

As Raelynn played with her hair, she noticed that Gregor had finally looked her way and his relaxed pose soothed even her. She was glad that they had been able to talk their way to this point. She remained like that for a while, but in the quiet her fearful thoughts returned and so she turned around in the bath, passing it off as a sensual twirl for his eyes - with her back to him her face fell to sorrow, to confusion, to anger, and to nothing so quickly. The Breton slowly stood up, knowing that Gregor was watching - especially so now that he had become more content and composed. Her legs slipped out from the tub one at a time teasingly, her feet slowly finding the floorboards to take soft, near silent footsteps over to her lover. 

She moved towards him, unhurried by anything - a smirk tugging at her lips, hips swaying hypnotically. She hadn’t bothered to pull on the robe, and so the light of the flames in the fireplace lit her body and the droplets of water glisten like diamonds on her glowing skin. She walked with seductive purpose to Gregor, “I’m safe here with you,” she smiled as she climbed onto his lap, placing her arms on his shoulders, “I’m scared that it won’t last.” What she had wanted to tell him and what her heart wanted to tell him, was that she loved him - and that she loved him so deeply. But it still wasn’t right, it wouldn’t get her what she really wanted and what she [i]needed[/i] to feel safe. It was a conflicting feeling that she buried deep down as she bit her lip and closed her eyes, drawing closer to Gregor. The wet bare skin of her chest clinging to his shirt as she sighed against his neck before pulling away to look him in the eyes.

With Governor Rourken continuing to have her minions stalk, kidnap and brutalise them, she would never feel safe. She had to communicate this to him, to the part of him that would understand. She pressed herself to him, thighs either side of his own and her nose pressed against his nose. “As long as Rourken is in power, people like Zaveed of Senchal get to roam the streets and do as they please to people like me and say it’s for the good of Hammerfell…”

Raelynn slowly pulled away, she had his attention now and she straightened up, moving a hand under his chin, her thumb running across his strong jawline tenderly. “I want to do what must be done to ensure you get what you [i]deserve[/i] from her.” She knew that the very insinuation of a Dwemer soul would bring darkness and excitement to him all at once, and she smiled calmly awaiting it. “I want us to be the last thing she sees. Only then will I feel safe…”

Like a predator emerging from the shadows, the Pale Reaper returned and the air became charged with the weight of his presence. The feeling of Raelynn’s wet body against his and the nature of her words were reflected in the unnatural hunger that swirled in the bottomless pits of Gregor’s black eyes, and his hands moved slowly, languidly, over her legs, her hips and her back. “Rourken will die,” he breathed against Raelynn’s lips as his fingernails dug into her skin. “You will be safe, and I will be eternal. We will make it so. Together.” 

Finally she had gotten what she wanted, a spoken pledge of violence. His presence was so powerful and commanding now that the fire died down to embers. Against his lips she moaned softly in pleasure and pain while his fingernails worked their way into her skin. Her arms wrapped around him and she whispered into his ear, “make me feel alive again.”